


One of Two Things

by Five Cent Ash (primeideal)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Freeverse, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-05
Updated: 2011-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-10 14:04:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primeideal/pseuds/Five%20Cent%20Ash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver Wood, Mr. Scamander, the German Alps, and an elusive Snidget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One of Two Things

**Author's Note:**

> For the Conflicted Characters Challenge on HPFC (Fanfiction.Net)
> 
> He will do one of two things  
> He will admit to everything  
> Or he'll say he's just not the same  
> And you'll begin to wonder why you came  
> -The Fray, "How To Save A Life"

You step. And onward. Trying not to breathe  
Too loudly; he makes his way  
As if he does this, and you realize  
Maybe he does, every day.

And still you're irritated, even though  
You've never done this before  
You don't like falling behind  
Even if no one's keeping score.

One hundred and fifty Galleons. Someone tried  
To tell you what that would be worth today.  
It doesn't matter. A matter of pride  
Is all for which you can play.

We should sit down you find yourself not saying  
Too many conversations only take  
Place in your head. You passed a Muggle  
An hour back, but how did you know?

Read it off his face, his empty eyes.  
Are you no better than the ones you claim  
You're better than? They have their ways around  
The valleys. Tricks, tools, but just as soon

Try a Bubble-Head Charm as give it all up.  
Why not a Summoning Charm, if that?  
Or are there really any here at all?  
Somerset is relatively...flat.

"Wir sollen sitzen," you hear yourself say.  
He laughs, mollified, and you do.  
He doesn't ask and you don't explain  
How little you remember. You were five

When they celebrated Hallows' Eve.  
Your father relaxed but your mother feared.  
Peace then, but for how long? And they taught you  
Pieces and bits, some way to reach out

Across the boundaries. It didn't work.  
You only wanted to go up, not out.  
And here you are, climbing through fading air.  
And here is chance, and here as well is doubt.

"Maybe tomorrow, eh?" His laugh is deep.  
"Yeah, maybe." And what then? You want to know  
What you'd do if you'd find one. Stupid. He's  
Done this before, he'd be the one. But you

Are faster on a broom, could pluck  
It out of the sky. And then do you just squeeze?  
Stupid! This isn't you, you must  
Be too high, too far gone to think right.

"I think we should go back." And every step  
Drags you closer to the ground  
But no closer to who you were before.

What's going on back home is wrong  
And this is illegal but such  
A thrill. Does it matter anymore?


End file.
